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Silence for the Dead(4)

Author:Simone St. James1

Like the dining room, this room had been emptied and the furniture replaced with hard, functional pieces. Thin-cushioned chairs were positioned on cheap rugs in clusters meant to be social. Two sagging sofas had been placed next to a scarred bookshelf piled with ratty magazines and books with dark, puffed pages. A single table featured a chess set and two facing chairs. I looked up and saw the same plaster vines that had decorated the dining room, looking down on this meager sight from their majestic place on the ceiling.

“There is no smoking,” Nurse Fellows said as I craned my neck. “Cards are forbidden. We get newspapers, but they cannot be current and they must be vetted by Matron first. All letters coming in and going out are read and censored if needed. Dice and gambling of any kind are not allowed. We have tentatively encouraged amateur theatrics, but so far none of the men has shown an interest.”

“Blimey,” I said. “What do they do in here, then?”

A look of unmistakable disgust crossed her face, and she answered as if swallowing something sour. “There are books on the shelf. Some use the time to converse, or simply to sit and think. Many are not capable of much else—you’ll see. The vicar comes from time to time.”

“Coo,” I said, just to irritate her. You’re not so high and mighty yourself, miss. Your vowels give you away. “Impressive. We had nothing like this at Belling Wood.”

Nurse Fellows rolled her eyes. “Well, of course you didn’t. Belling Wood is entirely different from what we have here.” She pulled a watch from her apron pocket, checked it. “Late-afternoon rest is almost finished. I’ll take you up to the nurses’ quarters to wash and change. You’ll need to be ready for supper duty.”

“Very well,” I said as I followed her narrow back out of the room and along the corridor toward the servants’ stairs. “I’d like a smoke first, if you don’t mind. It was a long trip from the train station.”

She started briskly up the stairs. “Weren’t you listening? There’s no smoking here.”

I stopped. “What do you mean, there’s no smoking?”

“I just said it.”

“I thought that was for the patients.”

She stopped at the first turn of the stairs and looked down at me, her yellow hair nearly glowing in the dim light. “Nurse Weekes, there is no smoking anywhere at Portis House. The smoking of cigarettes is not healthful.”

“Not healthful?” I tried to keep my voice from rising as I pictured life without cigarettes. “What kind of mad rule is that?”

“The nurses are to set a proper example for the patients—an example that is healthful, helpful, and moral.” She gave slight emphasis to the last word as she pronounced this little speech, which was quite obviously memorized. “A nurse’s duty is to give comfort with quiet obedience, which is the highest calling there is. Surely they didn’t let the nurses smoke in London?”

I had no idea about the hospital, but Ally had smoked steadily when not on duty. “What about in my free hours?”

“It isn’t allowed.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I put down my valise. Even at the factory, the shift supervisors had looked the other way when we slipped out the back door for a smoke. “The last I checked, I’m not mad, and I’m not a patient here. How can you make rules about my free hours?”

“Because we can,” she said simply. “You are an employee here, and you are being given room and board. As such, you are setting an example twenty-four hours a day. Aside from the fact that the mad are lacking in moral judgment, it is simply the rule. And if Matron makes the rule, you follow it. Now, will there be a problem, Nurse Weekes? If so, I can inform Matron.”

I gritted my teeth. I’d only just got the job, and I couldn’t lose it. “No,” I made myself say. “There will be no problem.”

“Good. Then I’ll show you to your quarters.”

We looked at each other for a long moment, and I saw how it would be. When I picked up my valise again, the corner of her mouth quirked in triumph. Then she turned away, and I followed her up the stairs.

? ? ?

The nurses’ quarters were on the second floor, in a long, narrow room that overlooked the front gardens and the drive. Five cots, each neatly made, were set up along the windows. Makeshift curtains, now tied back with strips of cloth, were strung up between the beds; the effect was a little like a hospital ward, though it was offset by the mullioned windows, the rich wood flooring covered with only the thinnest of rugs, and the dark wainscoting that matched the rooms below. Again I had the impression of a room that had once been opulent.

Atop one bed sat a girl with dark blond hair, wearing full uniform and cap, leaning against the headboard with a magazine propped against her knees. A pair of heavy shoes was discarded on the floor, and she rubbed her stockinged feet together as she read, moving the sole of one foot over the top of the other. She looked up as we entered, and I saw her face was heart shaped, her eyes wide and gray.

“Oh—hullo!” she said to me.

“Nurse Beachcombe,” said Nurse Fellows before I could reply. “Supper is in fifteen minutes. Have you washed and prepared?”

The girl blinked. “No—that is, Nina is—”

“And where is Nurse Shouldice? She should be preparing as well.”

“I’m here.” A woman’s low tenor voice came from the doorway behind us, and I moved aside. A second girl came into the room, this one tall, her shoulders wide, her hair mousy brown, her face doughy and slack. She regarded Nurse Fellows with naked hostility from behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. “Who’s this, then?”

Nurse Fellows’s lips pursed even thinner. “This is Nurse Weekes, who starts today.”

“Is it?” The big girl swung a look at me. “Will she last longer than the last one, then?”

“That was unfortunate,” said Nurse Fellows. “Matron has taken it under advisement.”

Now the look swung back to Nurse Fellows. “Will she take it under advisement that Martha and I have been doing double duty for four days?”

“Nina,” said the girl on the bed weakly.

Nurse Fellows’s returning stare was icy. “Matron is well aware of the staffing levels here, I assure you. That is why we have a replacement. The two of you will have to train her, as I am far too busy. I expect you to teach her properly.” She turned to me. “I’ll get you one of the uniforms from the cupboard. I’ll remind you that you are expected to wear your uniform at all times.” She darted a glare at Nurse Beachcombe, who was still sitting shoeless on the bed. “Even during breaks. I’ll see the three of you in fifteen minutes.”

“Where does she get off?” grumbled Nurse Shouldice after Nurse Fellows had gone.

“It was only my shoes,” Nurse Beachcombe said uncertainly as she scooted off her bed. “I’d no idea it was against regulations.”

“Of course not,” the bigger girl replied. “Too busy? Too busy doing what, I’d like to know.”

I stared at the heaping pile of cloth Nurse Fellows had deposited on the bed. The outfit looked ridiculously complicated. “I’ll never get into all this,” I said.

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